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There is a rising beneath
The shape of cresting wave peaks
Where light shines through and down
/
Into the rushes, cupped in the hands
Anemonae— between the bubbles and the air pockets
And pressurized space stained black and white and blue
/
This is the land of the deep, the deathly still
Where only the brave light of pyrosomes
Wan— cast upon the inkblots that pool in human hearts
/
Can fill with air the lungs that breathe
And float, and buoyed and bobbing,
Teach us to feel the warmth of sun again
/
So let it be known I combed the ocean floor
I paid in sleepless solo night sojourns
I sought the sacred in sands, tectonic rifts,
/
And elemental Pelagaic bits
Dark bits that, cupped in the hands—
Stronger now— squeezed— burst to stars
Prompt: The abyssal zone or abyssopelagic zone is a layer of the pelagic zone of the ocean. "Abyss" derives from the Greek word ἄβυσσος, meaning bottomless. At depths of 4,000 to 6,000 metres (13,000 to 20,000 ft), this zone remains in perpetual darkness.
Cameron Banowsky May 2018
Went out to pay tribute,
headed out west.
Seems Santa Monica is filled with LA's best.

Where have we come?
Where ego survives before your own son?
You keep buying that **** your fed since birth
Ignorance is the summation of your net worth

No.
I don't abide.
I've seen it happen.
I just watched it with my own two eyes.
Sadly, I'm not surprised.
Dressed up kids **** good vibes
Pretext: ****** art gallery manager attempted to scold / embarrass her assistant Audrey who had been nothing assistant who had been nothing but kind to me as I worked out a time I would be on the west side to play a guitar / work of art masterpiece from a local artist named Shanna.  This dumb **** manager had some stick up her *** and made herself look like the child she clearly is.  This one is for Audrey.
Cameron Banowsky May 2018
it's a loaded term.
branded and historically stern.
While the shadow still remains
after the setting sun --
your pain will remain.

This is the ORIGIN of shame.

Have you not learned?
how They play game?
paint us out to be insane.

I wasn't given a choice.
I was given a name.



-- that i haven't changed.
Origin
Cameron Banowsky Apr 2018
If you find yourself in constant dismay
About your life, the world at large or simply **** today
You have two paths to walk and one ends colorless and grey
You sat and did nothing,  but had plenty to say.

What is that contribution that you speak?
Being in tune with the news and the daily beat?
Have you tuned out so that you could actually hear?
The connection is deafening and you walk away filled with fear.

So make you choice now or accept your fate
Right now is the only thing that is certain and safe.
But if you prefer to project life beyond the now
There will be a time when you will realize the answer to the question:
How?

There are those who speak and inspire
That's good and fine
But can you call the actions of others your own
Or can I call them mine?
No.
You need to make something from nothing
You need to blow your mind
Or else you're wasting air
And you're wasting you're own time.
Part of Poem a Day.  This one is just on HePo.
Mary-Eliz Apr 2018
I've seen it now
mentioned twice
by poets in their lines

somehow I must have
missed
this mission that was assigned

I guess I wasn't quite
paying enough
attention

boy! I sure hope
I don't end up
in detention

I must have fallen asleep
in class

whoops!

better behave
cause
this way I'll never pass

I just found out
about
April's poem a day

oh well, too late now
perhaps I'll try it in May
After I posted, I looked. Quite by accident, I have written a poem every day so far. Of course, it's only the 7th!
Anji Feb 2018
I want a man whose heart is so full -
Rainwater dripping from the pitcher on the drizzled grey of yesterday,
A soft sound in the great symphony of the wet garden,
Bejeweled and glistening,
Pianoforte drops
Upon the wet leaves
Falling.

I will know him by the way he writes, the kindness in his eyes -
Flashes of him in my professor,
In myself, caught laughing like a child,
In the quiet teenager who is becoming an
Unlikely philosopher, frontal cortex in heat,
With the implications of existence
(He’s awake in the early dawn, a furious Jacob,
wrestling with his God)

And he will be a Seeker of Beauty:
“There is no medium unworthy”
He will tell me, but never in words,
Crouching for perfection’s grace among leaves and dirt
Like a widow beneath rainbow fractals
At early morning’s mass.

He will be effortless, like the unspoken love
Between two old friends, bookends
Scattering crumbs of baguettes in the park
To clicking beaks, and dancing pigeon feet.

Burying himself in pages, when he thinks no one sees
(Was that you there, on the subway?
Dark eyes, fixated on the lines,
Crinkling with understanding?)

Both of us adventurous spirits -
“Let’s run away, you and me” and we will
Melt with ease into cityscapes, so transparent, adaptive,
Young and free,
Like the wood moths becoming one
With the aspen in its serenity,
We light upon
France, Spain… Italy.

I know I will find him
In my own verse.
Will discover him
In pages that I’ve turned.
Will recite his thoughts back to him, and will
Love him like poetry.
I will know him by heart.
"That’s cool. The first stanza is kinda awkward, though, maybe I hadn’t gotten into it yet. Good imagery. Makes my brain hurt. But that could also just be because I have a migraine." - mom
Lari Z Jan 2018
your happiness is my joy
your grief, my burden

I laugh when you laugh
I cry beside you

When you are angry, I lash out
I panic when you are anxious

but is it you or me?
and does it matter?

I am only built for my own emotions...
either i'm highly sensitive or too empathic or it's all in my head.
Lari Z Jan 2018
my thoughts are buzzing
my trains of thought colliding
what was I saying?
Lari Z Jan 2018
that feeling of making music with you
of singing
and harmonizing

is why I love a choir
Lari Z Jan 2018
sometimes it doesn't matter
that you're not as capable
as smart
as organized
as sociable

you are willing
willing to learn
willing to grow

that willingness you have?
that is enough
you are enough-
more than enough.
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